Obsessed (38 page)

Not that Tierra had ever intended to let the Sorcerer get his claws on Liana, or any one of them. Damn him. If they had only been able to escape during moonchange like they had planned, they could all be free and together at this very moment.

And damn To’en, the pale god who had sent her into the woods—most likely on some kind of wild perna chase. At this point she was more likely to find that magical bird than she was likely to find her halias.

What had compelled her to obey some strange man who had told her to head into the woods? What had she been thinking?

Like a daft idiot, she had done exactly as the man bade, hiking north toward Wilding Wood. Blending into the trees like some Faerie sprite, she had traveled as silently as possible and avoided what few strangers she had come across. Preserving her meager stores as much as possible, she had eaten berries and nuts she found as she journeyed, along with greens and roots she knew to be edible.

Magic. Surely the white-haired To’en had used some kind of power to manipulate her into traveling in this direction. If he had wanted to hurt her, he could have done so while she slept. Instead he had taken away her fever with his touch, she was certain.

So why would he send her on a fool’s errand, if he wished her harm?

Tierra picked apart her braid and eased her fingers through its length as she stared at the woods around her. She had reached such a remote part of the forest where, were it not for the moss on the trees, she would not know which direction to take. Even now she had no idea where she was, or if she was close to reaching Wilding Wood.

“This is foolish. I should—”

A horse’s whinny echoed from the depths of the forest, cutting short Tierra’s words.

Her body went as still as one of the trees towering beside her.

Her skin tingled with excitement and renewed hope. Someone must be nearby.

Liana? Ranelle?

Perhaps she had found her halias after all.

Tierra snatched her pack from the ground and hoisted it onto her shoulders. The soft soles of her shoes made not a sound as she slipped through the forest. Branches scraped her skin as she wended her way through the wood. Again she heard a horse—this time a snort and a snuffle, and much, much closer. The trickle of running water met her ears. A stream, most likely. She was almost out of her honeysuckle bathing potion, but she could certainly use a bath, even if it was ice-cold water.

When she was sure she was close, Tierra lowered herself to her knees and crawled through the brush. Sticks and rocks bit into the tender flesh of her palms and knees, but she continued on until she spied a small meadow.

An enormous black stallion stood in the center of the clearing, with a bridle on its large head. The splendid animal whickered and tossed his head, a fiery gleam in his obsidian eyes. His coat shone as black and as polished as nordai feathers, his mane combed and evenly trimmed. The saddle upon his back was a simple design, but looked of the finest craftsmanship…and a sheathed sword was strapped to the saddle.

This was no knave’s horse.

This beast was a warrior’s mount.

“What in the devil ails you, Feymir?” a deep voice rumbled from across the clearing.

Tierra’s gaze snapped toward the sound—and came to rest on the man from her dreams.

Sweet mother of the gods.

He was real.

Everything around her faded to nothing, except for the man beside the stream. Despite the thick scar across one cheek, and the slight crook to his nose, he was male perfection. His hair, as black as the stallion’s, hung straight and thick to his shoulders. A square jaw, high cheekbones, and those lips, firm and sensuous…mouthwatering.

Dark hair dusted the man’s tremendous bare chest. Tierra’s breath caught as he rubbed the back of his neck, as though assuaging an ache, his powerful muscles rippling with his movements.

“If you’re not quiet, you demented beast, you shall bring the dragons upon us,” the man growled while he bent and yanked off one boot. The horse he called Feymir tossed his head and whinnied again.

Dragons? Tierra’s eyes widened at the thought that she was actually in dragon country as she had feared earlier. The warrior removed the second boot and set it on the ground, next to the first. His hands moved to the waist of his skin-tight black leather breeches…

All thoughts of dragons fled her mind as he began to untie the laces.

Yes.
Tierra clenched the grass beneath her hands, her throat dry with wanting.
Take them off.

Even as she begged in her mind, her plea was answered. The man pushed the breeches past his hips, releasing his thick cock.

Gracious lords above. Tierra’s core flooded with wet heat, dampening her cloth breeches. The man wasn’t even aroused, and his rod was at least three times the size of any she had seen when she’d watched the wenches being fucked at the inn. Even Stefan’s, and that man sported a prime package.

The dark warrior eased out of his breeches and tossed them over his boots. Turning his back to where Tierra hid, he grabbed a haversack and dug through it. A scar jagged across his back from his left shoulder down to his right hip. It was thick and pink, the skin shiny where certainly a treacherous wound had healed.

And oh, yes…he had one fine ass, muscled and tight.

He withdrew a cake of soap and strode into the shallow stream, and Tierra found herself mesmerized by his fluid movements. For such a big man, he moved with ease and virile grace unlike any man she had seen before.

Not that she had ever seen a man like this one.

In moments the warrior was in the middle of the stream, water skimming just below his bollocks.

Tierra’s nipples tightened to aching nubs. She shifted, trying to ease the pressure between her thighs, but cloth rasped over her breasts and rubbed along her clit.

The sight of his pleasing cock all but hypnotized her. She wanted that cock. Wanted to taste it. Wanted to feel it thrusting into her.

What would it feel like to have that cloud of hair pressed tight to hers, the soft sac slapping against her as he fucked her?

Good gods. What was she thinking? This man was a stranger. For all she knew he could be a servant of Zanden.

The mere thought iced her lust, but only for a moment. Her breath came in painful gulps as she watched the man soaping his body, wishing she could soap him.

Better yet, she would like to be that cake of soap. Traveling over every inch of that fine body.

When the man finished cleansing himself, he tossed the soap cake onto the shore and rinsed himself off, scooping water with his big hands and splashing it over his skin. He paid special attention to the hair around his cock, stroking his bollocks, and then moved his hand to his shaft.

Tierra squirmed as the warrior’s cock lengthened. By the moon and the gods, she had never seen anything so arousing as watching this man pleasuring himself. Her fingers itched to slide into her breeches where she might stroke her clit. But she held herself back.

Later. She would hold this sight in her mind and think about him fucking her as she brought herself to orgasm.

For now, she had to continue her journey.

No matter how badly she wanted this man, her first duty was to her halias. She had to find them. Tierra knew she could not risk any distraction, no matter how delicious that distraction might be.

Oh, and she was certain he would be delicious, indeed.

The warrior tilted back his head and pumped his cock into his fist with almost furious intensity. A low moan slipped through Tierra’s lips.

The man’s horse snorted and looked directly at Tierra’s hiding place, his ears cocked in her direction. Her heart pounded loud enough for the gods to hear. The beast called Feymir couldn’t see her, could he?

Could a horse raise an alarm?

The horse blew out another whinny and tossed his proud head. Tierra tensed, ready to bolt at the first sign that she had been discovered.

Renn soaped his body, wishing he had a woman to do it for him. A willing woman who would cleanse his skin, then lie on the grass and spread her thighs wide, wanting only to be fucked again and again. Unfortunately, every maid in Phoenicia wanted more than a mere fuck. They talked of love and commitment. Traps for the unwary.

Renn would never fall prey to such foolishness.

The desire to mate after moonchange was fierce for a Nordain warrior. But Renn had been called away the very eve of his brother’s wedding to come to his newly rediscovered sister’s aid, as well as that of his brother-at-arms, Jalen.

Despite Renn’s own dislike of the thought of marriage, it pleased him that his sister had joined with Jalen. No matter what difficulties Ranelle might face, Renn knew with absolute certainty that Jalen would protect her with his life.

For the two nights Renn had been in Seraphine, he’d had the pleasure of fucking two and three Elvin maids at one time. While he soaped the hair around his cock and bollocks, he smiled at the memory of Damianne straddling his thighs and riding his staff. At the same time Kerriel sat on his face and he suckled at her sweet juices ’til she screamed with her climax. He had fucked them each ’til they came repeatedly, before spending his seed inside Kerriel’s tight core.

Damianne, a skilled Elvin warrior, had offered to join him on his hunt for the daft human maid called Tierra. But Renn refused to fuck any woman more than one night in a row, not wanting anything remotely resembling a relationship. He might choose to bed a woman a second and third time, but only if days or weeks had passed, and only with the clear understanding that all he wanted was a good fuck.

And he traveled with no one. He relied on none but his brother Aric and his brother-at-arms Jalen.

Splashing cold water over his body and rinsing off the soap, Renn considered his hunt thus far. For two days Renn had followed the trail of the missing woman, the friend of his sister Ranelle and Queen Liana. The gods only knew why this Tierra had fled into the depths of Merth Darkling, the most dangerous part of the D’euan Forest, stronghold of the lycidian dragons.

Had she not been in Merth Darkling when he began tracking her, Renn would have assumed his nordai form and flown ahead of Feymir, searching for the maid who must not have a brain in her head to choose such a route. But he dared not leave his warhorse. Feymir could fend off one dragon, but two would leave him naught more than a pile of bones.

Renn had no doubt he would find the maid. Once he located her, he would take her back to Phoenicia and be done with it. Then he could get back to fucking and to preparations for the war-storm brewing.

The memory of his prey’s sweet fragrance came to mind, and Renn cupped his bollocks, enjoying the weight of them in his hand. The missing maid’s scent of honeysuckle musk had been clean and strong whenever he reached a location where she had spent the night, and his cock had stirred each time.

He moved his hand to his staff, stroking it ’til it grew to its full length. Perhaps this maid he sought would be a good fuck.

Harder and harder Renn worked his staff, picturing his cock thrusting in and out of the woman’s quim.

Feymir’s piercing whinny cut into Renn’s lust ridden thoughts. He paused in his strokes and his gaze snapped in the direction the stallion was looking.

Renn’s muscles tensed, ready to propel him after whoever might be in the forest. As he stared unblinking into the foliage, he spied a pair of emerald eyes.

Watching him.

For one long moment Tierra’s gaze locked with the dark warrior’s.

Silver. His eyes were silver, like Ranelle’s.

In the next instant, the man bolted from the stream, straight toward Tierra.

A gasp tore from her as she scrambled to her feet and darted into the darkening woods. Her almost empty pack bounced against her back as she fled. Sounds of crashing came from behind, but she dared not look back.

Gods above. What had she done? Yet even as she dodged through bushes and trees, a strange thrill coursed through her, knowing that the naked warrior pursued her.

Like a hunter after his prey.

Blindly she shoved branches out of her way, ignoring the scrape of rough bark against her skin. Her heart pounded like drums in her ears, and her fear had the coppery taste of blood.

A branch snagged at her hair at the same time she tripped over a root.

Crying out, Tierra stumbled forward.

Big hands grasped her waist, keeping her from falling. But in a movement so quick she scarcely had a chance to catch her breath, he flipped her around. The world spun and she found herself flat on her back, her wrists pinned over her head, her pack crushed between her body and the ground.

And a wet and naked warrior straddling her, a hungry look in his eyes.

Already water from his body seeped through her clothing and to her skin. Her gaze darted to the huge cock pressed tight to her belly, droplets of water still glistening in the soft hair around the base of his shaft. Tierra bit back the urge to lick her lips. When she glanced again to the man’s face, his smile was smug, confident. As though he knew she wanted him to fuck her.

Fury and embarrassment replaced her desire and she struggled against his hold. She glared up at him as she realized her efforts were entirely futile. “Get off, you—you giant dragon dropping!”

The man quirked an eyebrow and his look turned feral. “You interrupted a most enjoyable fantasy.” His deep voice rumbled straight though her as he spoke. “No small punishment is in order.”

Tierra’s eyes widened and her voice cracked as she repeated, “Punishment?”

“Mmmm.” The warrior’s gaze roved over her tunic-covered breasts. Keeping her wrists pinned above her head with one hand, he brought his other to her waist. “Although it is certain you would enjoy what I have in mind.”

She started to deny his words, but gasped instead as he pushed her tunic top up just enough to expose her belly. He stroked the soft flesh above the waistband of her breeches, his mere touch sending searing heat throughout her. “Perhaps I should bare your beautiful ass and spank you,” he murmured.